


Charity Case

by kgirl1



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kgirl1/pseuds/kgirl1
Summary: "I'm beginning to think you just can't let anyone fall apart."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who left kind words on "By the Light of Lothal's Moons." Now, have some Kanera!

A few hours ago, Sabine Wren had become a member of the Ghost crew. Despite the amicable relationship he had with the girl thus far, Kanan was in the common room, his mind haunted.

He would never admit it, but he had felt so special, so needed, when Hera had asked him to join her on the ship. Needed, noticed even, was something he hadn’t been in a long time. When Zeb appeared, that feeling had faded somewhat, replaced by a sense of disenchantment. So he wasn’t quite as special as he had thought. So, it wasn’t going to be just the two of them, roaming the galaxy, chasing missions and striking back against the Empire. Well, Kanan could live with that. But then, Hera had decided to pick up the runaway Mandalorian girl, and the pieces started to fall into place.

Was that just her personal mission? Taking in hopeless, pathetic life forms and giving them a purpose again? It certainly seemed right up Hera’s alley, and he worried that was how she had seen him. He was beginning to wonder if he had meant anything to her at all. Or if he was just another one of her rescues, another poor soul with no place to call home. 

Hera entered the common room. “Kanan, we have another assignment, from Fulcrum.” 

He didn’t look away from the gear he was tinkering with, and she drew closer.

“I know it’s been a long week,” she hedged, concern evident into her tone. “Are you up for it?”

“What does it matter if I’m up for it? I’m just another one of your charity cases, anyway,” he muttered, getting up and leaving the table.

“Kanan Jarrus.”

A sharpness, one that was previously unheard to him, cut through the honey of her voice and made him stop in his tracks.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Hera folded her arms. “You think of yourself as a charity case?”

He turned around. “What? Isn’t that why you took in Sabine?”

“I did not “take in” Sabine any more than I took in you. I asked her to join our cause,” Hera said empathically, “And she agreed.”

“Would she have “joined our cause” if she wasn’t a young girl, alone on the streets?” Kanan mocked.

Hera narrowed her eyes. “You think she’s here because I took pity on her?”

“Honestly, I’m starting to think we all are.”

She sighed. “Kanan…”

“I started to suspect it, with Zeb. But at least he’s a warrior; Sabine’s nothing but a runaway kid. Don’t try to tell me you’re going to drag a teenager into war.” 

Hera opened her mouth, but Kanan pressed on. “You just can’t refuse anyone who needs help,” he spat. “I used to admire that. But now I’m starting to think I’m just another one of your charges.”

“Kanan, you aren’t here because I pitied you, you’re here because I saw something in you.” Hera gave a frustrated reply.

“Oh, come on, Hera. Sabine has nothing, Zeb was an emotional and physical wrecking ball, Chopper should have been sold for scrap metal years ago, and I belong in some backwater bar on Gorse,” he accused. “I’m beginning to think you just can’t let anyone fall apart.”

“You really would rather be there? Sitting in that backwater bar, drunk and alone, on the receiving end of the pitying, remissive look from the bartender every time you ask for another?” She demanded.

“No!” He snapped, and Kanan’s shoulders sank with the realization. “No,” he admitted, more quietly. “No, I don’t want to be there, ever again. But I don’t want to be here because you think I need charity.”

“Well, you don’t belong in that bar,” Hera said. “Any more than Zeb does, any more than Sabine belongs on the streets. You belong here.”

He folded his arms. “Why? Because your conscience refused to let you let me drink my life away?”

“Because I thought you needed a second chance,” she snapped. Hera gestured behind them, to the cabins of their crewmates, and her voice grew solemn and emphatic. “The Empire wronged them, Kanan. Just like it did to you, just like it did to me. It took my mother, it took your master, it took his people, and it took her whole life. We all deserve a chance to fight back.”

“Yeah, well, ‘second chance’ sounds an awful lot like charity case,” he retorted. “And that’s not what I am.”

“What you are is a Jedi,” her voice dropped to a whisper, but didn’t lose its edge. “And you have more reason to fight this evil than anybody."

“But would you have brought me on if you didn’t know that?” He demanded.

Hera threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “You’re here, Kanan! Does it matter how? Why can’t you just let this go?”

“Because I need to know what I am to you!” His speech became hoarse, and Hera recoiled at the outburst. He cursed inwardly and took a deep, shaky breath. “And now that they’re both here, I’m not so sure.” He stared at her, certain that he looked as wild and helpless as he had the first time they’d met.

“Kanan Jarrus.” Her voice was soft again, the melodic, heartwarming whisper he had fallen in love with back on Gorse. “You are galaxies away from being my charity case.”

He met her eyes, burning and bright with passion, and knew instantly that she meant every word. They shared a gaze of understanding, and then Hera cleared her throat.

“The Ghost is built for four. It always has been, and I’ve always intended to fill it, with people like us,” she said firmly. “But that doesn’t make you any less important to me. I… rely on you more than you know.” Hera’s voice grew soft, and she turned away from him.

“You were never a charity case. You were a valuable member of this crew from the start, and if anything, I only value you more now.”

He tried to decrypt what she had meant as he watched her lekku sway to the rhythm of her voice, almost hypnotically. Hera turned her head, speaking to him over her shoulder. “I have repairs to make. But does that clear things up for you, Kanan Jarrus?”

His speech seemed stuck in his throat. “Crystal,” the Jedi managed. 

“Good.”

As she sauntered away, Kanan realized that he would never tire of hearing those lips create his name.


End file.
